Life is Not Measured
by Tyler AM
Summary: collection of ficlets in no particular order of moments mostly from season five (though may be others if they randomly pop into my head). "Life is not measured by the number of breaths we take, but by the moments that take our breath away."
1. Lucky Strike

_These are just random moments that pop into my head - usually at work :) - and will not be beta'd so any errors are completely MINE! _

_All of the chapters/stories will have really random titles because while some are inspired by songs I was listening to, others are just the name of the song I happened to have on repeat when I was writing..._

**A/N -** _Yeah we all know we can't do it as well as Marlowe and Co but I do enjoy playing with them from time to time..._

* * *

5x04 – "Murder, He Wrote" ... listening to "Lucky Strike" by Maroon 5

* * *

They do not even put them in a police car. After Sheriff Brady cuffs them (to one another of course) he walks them to the police station. Actually walks them down the six blocks from the Sandbar. She feels like she is being paraded around in front of these people and wonders if the Sheriff is going to start calling her a hooker again. She looks to her left where Castle walks by her side trying desperately NOT to look at her and she fixes him with a glare – the perfect narrowing of her eyes - and she knows (she KNOWS) that he is about to lose the battle with himself and look right into the ire which lies in her irises. After about a minute of watching him, he turns to her.

"It could be worse." He offers.

"Really? How could it be worse, Castle?"

"We could be the suspects…?" He says with a raise of his eyebrows, his shoulders following just slightly and she fights hard to keep from grinning at him. He really is cute, and damn, she is screwed.

"Oh but people thinking I'm a prostitute is just dandy…" The sarcasm is dripping from her words and she can see him sag a bit.

"Beckett…"

"And just so you know, when I said 'next time let's do it without the tiger', this" she holds up their cuffed hands between them – her left, his right – and shakes them, making the cuffs jingle, "THIS is not what I meant!" The shock on his face at her admission would almost cause her to trip over her own two feet, her laughter ringing through the salted air surrounding them if she was not as upset as she is.

"Hold up…you MEANT that?!" He retorts, his voice falling dangerously low as he cants into her body and she can feel the fabric of his shirt tickling the exposed skin of her bicep and it makes her stomach clench. God, she needs help. How can he do this to her? How have they not ripped each other's clothes off yet? She wants him and she has not gotten to have him properly all weekend. Well, there was that frenzied encounter in the shower this morning, his hands skimming wetly over her body and his fingers slipping inside her, doing all the right things…focus, Beckett!

"That's your take away…" She responds in a feeble attempt to keep her mind on her irritation and not on the best and quickest ways she has found of removing his clothing.

"How have we not taken advantage of this? You have your own set of handcuffs!" He barrels on without truly registering her comment. She feels the flush inch up the bare skin of her neck when she sees Sheriff Brady looking at them.

"Yes, I own handcuffs. You want to make something of it?" She challenges and Brady turns from them and walks them into the police station. She will not even call it a precinct because, ugh, she cannot equate what she does with what is happening out here. She knows she is being petty over this whole prostitute thing – but still…seriously?

They walk into the police station and she sighs as they are processed and moved into a holding cell which is right in the middle of the bull pen. Could this be any more like Mayberry? And even better, the meth head they arrested last night is passed out and snoring on the only bench in the entire cell. Awesome. She glances over to Castle and sees the apologetic look on his face – his eyes squinting just slightly at the edges and his shoulders rising faintly. She schools her face and turns away from him as the deputy secures her to the bench and then moves to do the same with Castle on the far end with the meth head in between them.

The deputy walks out of the cell giving them a condescending look and she narrows her eyes at him. This was not what she had in mind when Castle mentioned a romantic weekend getaway to the Hamptons and she could kind of kill him for making them get involved in this. Him and his damned writers' complex about always having to have all the answers. She could kill him…or kiss him…or have her way with him…ugh…it is going to be a long afternoon.


	2. State of Grace

_I really should be actually working when I'm at work - but where is the fun in that, I ask?_

_So this came of listening to too much Taylor Swift and thinking about the summer of Caskett :) Hope you enjoy!_

_**A/N: honestly at this point...you know it all...**_

* * *

This is a State of Grace

This is the worthwhile fight

Love is a ruthless game unless you play it good and right

These are the hands of fate

You're my Achilles heel

This is the golden age of something good and right and real

- "State of Grace" by Taylor Swift

* * *

"What was that about?" Kate Beckett's voice rings out through the stillness in the loft as Richard Castle walks out of his study scrubbing a hand haphazardly down his face.

"I'm late on my deadline for the final edits of _Frozen Heat_. And Gina just wanted to call and remind me that I am paid to write and not to sit around all summer…" He drops to the couch next to her with a heavy sigh.

"Isn't the book set for release in September?"

"Yeah."

"Castle, it's June!"

"I noticed that on the calendar this morning, actually."

"Smart ass…" His lips turn up just slightly at the edges as he turns his head toward her. She is ensconced in the corner of the couch her knees pulled up toward her chest with a book resting on her legs in front of her; arm flung over the back of the couch as she regards him, wisps of her hair falling down from her messy ponytail in golden brown tendrils around her face. "How have you not gotten any of your edits done?" He raises his eyebrows at her as his fingers rub lazy, chaotic patterns over her bare legs. She fights the smile playing on her lips and her eyes narrow.

"I have absolutely no idea, Detective. Maybe you could help me figure that out?" She huffs an exasperated sigh as Castle leans toward her letting his lips lightly graze her right knee as he lets his head fall against the back of the couch. By reflex, Kate reaches out her hand and slides her fingers softly through his hair as his eyes trail up her body and meet hers.

"I should go so you can get some work done." Her hand falls from his hair as she moves to stand up from the couch. He reaches for her hand before she can move further and pulls her back down onto the couch. "Castle…"

"Stay."

"You need to work and apparently I am only a distraction to you."

"Of the best kind…" She rolls her eyes and the smile breaks out over his face – his eyes squinting and the lines appear around the edges, a row of pure white teeth peek out from behind his lips and he leans further into her. His hand slips around to the nape of her neck as their lips connect and any thought of leaving this place, this moment, dissipate as his mouth moves over hers; his lips soft, inviting and sure. The slide of his tongue across the seam of her lips makes her gasp as her lips part and the heat of his mouth mingles with hers setting her veins on fire.

"Ok, I'll stay…" She breathes once she pulls her mouth from his. "The rules are as follows." His smile falls from his face and his mouth transforms into a pout as he eyes her.

"Rules?"

"Rules."

"Beckett…"

"Castle!"

"What am I five?"

"Well if it quacks like a duck…"

"Hey now."

"Rules are as follows." She holds up her index finger to his lips to stop the torrent of protests she can see forming in his brain about to spill forth from his lips. "You can either stay here on the couch or in your study and you will only stop to eat."

"I guess that sounds reasonable,"

"Not done…"

"Oy."

"You don't get to touch me until you finish." The instant widening of his eyes is so comical she cannot contain the laugh that erupts from her chest.

"WHAT?"

"You heard me."

"Beckett…" He whines as his body lists into hers on the couch. "That's just cruel and unusual punishment." She lifts her leg and pushes on his chest slightly with her foot increasing the space between their bodies on the couch.

"That's what you get for putting off your edits. Now, go! Nikki and Rook require your attention." He lands one last glare at her as he stands from the couch and moves toward his study closing the door a little bit harder than he probably should behind him.

Two hours later, she barely registers the door of the study opening and Castle's stilted movements as he walks gingerly toward the couch and sits on the end facing towards her perch in the corner section. She does not look at him as he begins to speak.

"What are you reading, anyways?"

"Wouldn't you like to know?"

"Come on, Beckett. Tell me!"

"Not on your life."

"It's _50 Shades of Gray_ isn't it?" He says with a gasp in his tone.

"If you even mention that sorry excuse for literature again I will hit you. And no…I'm not a fan of bad literary porn."

"Good literary porn?"

"Is there really such a thing?"

"Touché." His hand rests lightly on her leg and begins his not so subtle ministrations across her kneecap. A shiver runs rampant down her spine and she takes in a shaky breath, sheering up her resolve.

"Castle…" She says, amazed at how steady and clear her voice is.

"Hm…?" He breathes as he leans into her.

"Did you finish your edits?"

"Mostly…" He mumbles as his lips reach her neck and begin to leave a soft trail of wet kisses up the path from her shoulder to the back of her ear.

"Hm…" She sighs and places both of her hands softly on his chest putting just enough pressure that he abandons his exploration of her neck with his mouth and meets her eyes. "Then you mostly need to get off me and go work." She pushes hard on his pecks and he shifts backwards, his ass barely hitting the edge of the couch.

"Seriously?"

"Seriously."

"Seriously?"

"Castle." She admonishes him and he grunts as he stands from the couch and moves back to his study mumbling something she believes is along the lines of "evil woman" as he disappears behind the bookshelves that serve as the walls of his study. He quickly returns to the living room, his heavy footfalls resounding on the walls causing her gaze to shift from her book to him as he plops down unceremoniously on the couch, places his feet securely on the coffee table, sets the laptop on his legs and opens it.

He turns to her and gives her an impish grin before turning back to the computer to set about typing. She looks back to her book not truly reading the page in front of her (not that she needs to, she knows page 105 well enough anyways) and lets her legs stretch out in front of her. There is just enough space on the couch that her feet hit his upper thigh as she extends her legs and she hears his telltale gasp. She cannot contain the sly smile that plays at the edges of her mouth as he tries desperately to keep his focus on the screen in front of him.

Kate moves the arch of her right foot to where it rests lightly on the outside of his left thigh, then shifts her foot, from the ball to the arch and back again, over the muscles of his leg. He swallows hard, his Adam's apple moving quickly while the speed of his fingers moving across the keys of the keyboard begin to slow.

"Kate…" His voice comes out in a harsh hiss and she rolls her eyes and removes her foot from him placing it in the safe zone of the couch between them. He resumes his furious typing, but she can still see his concentration wavering. His fingers stop typing and she notices him re reading over the edits he just finished. As he reads, his left hand drops casually to lie across her right ankle, his thumb painting light circles on her skin she can tell the action is second nature now because he does not look as if he knows he is doing it.

"Castle…" She says softly and he looks to her. She raises her eyebrows and kicks her foot lightly dislodging his hand from her ankle.

"Geez, no touching, sorry!"

"Work!"

"You know I'm remembering this when you're off suspension…"

"Administrative Leave…leave not suspension…"

"Suspension and want to get all sexy with me and not work…payback is a bitch, Beckett!"

"Cause that's actually going to happen."

"Oh you just wait. It'll happen."

"You are awfully sure of yourself, Mr. Castle."

"Well if the way I made you scream last night was any indication…"

"Shut up!" She lands her foot on his thigh and kicks forward making him list slightly to the right on his edge of the couch. "Write!"

"Yes, mistress." Castle says with a waggle of his eyebrows and goes back to the keyboard in front of him. Kate forces her attention back into the book resting on her knees and finds she cannot concentrate on the story. The cadence of his fingers over the keys lulls her mind and she rests her arm over the back of the couch, letting her head fall to rest on her hand as she regards him through half closed eyes. Something about seeing him like this makes her fall even more in love with him. Not that she has told him – not yet – the words have not been uttered by either of them since that night in her apartment. Watching as he writes, lays out the ins and outs and twists of the love story between Nikki and Rook, eases her in a way she cannot even truly explain to herself. There is such intimacy in the action as they sit in his loft, on his couch, in the middle of a summer day and he writes. She finally drops her gaze and returns to the book – might as well read about Nikki and Rook if she is not getting any right now…or tonight if he does not hurry up.

Kate does not register the darkness in the room until the large hand reaches over her legs and pulls the book from under her nose. She startles and her head pops up, her eyes landing on Castle sitting in front of her. The laptop is closed and sits on the coffee table and he is holding _Heat Wave_ looking at the cover and giving her an appraising look.

"What?" She asks.

"You were reading _Heat Wave_ this whole time?"

"Yeah…."

"It took you six hours to read," He flips the book over in his hands, "200 pages? Really?"

"Yes." She says staring right into his eyes.

"You sit on a throne of lies, Beckett!"

"I have no idea what you're talking about. And why aren't you working?"

"Because I'm finished."

"You are not! Wait…six hours? What time is it?"

"Almost seven. And YES I am finished. Final edits done and emailed straight to Gina." He closes the book he is still holding and places it on the coffee table next to his computer. "And you know what that means…?"

"What, pray tell, Mr. Castle?" She is shifting on the couch as they speak and soon she is lying on the couch with him hovering over her, her right leg slung over his hips pulling him closer to her. Castle sinks down onto his elbows and lets his lips fall next to her ear sending a rush of heat down her spine falling to rest between her legs.

"Research for the next one…"


	3. Rain

5x05 – "Probable Cause"

* * *

Sometimes a hurt is so deep deep deep  
You think that you're gonna drown  
Sometimes all I can do is weep weep weep  
With all this rain falling down

"Rain" by Patty Griffin

* * *

The orange glow of the lights in holding grate against her senses as she walks toward the last cell in the room. She can see him, but just barely, as he sits hunched over on the bench in the corner of the cell with his forearms resting on his knees and his head bowed. He could be praying, begging any higher being which might reside in the heavens for this nightmare to be over. The sound of the keys jangling together jostles him out of his thoughts and his head rises toward the noise slowly – so slowly it squeezes her heart.

"Kate…" He says softly, his voice barely a whisper in the stillness as if he is afraid that speaking too loudly, too clearly, will cause all of heaven and hell to rain down on them in this very cell and the world will end. Maybe it already is. He is sitting in holding; a murder suspect with evidence mounting against him and there is nothing she can do about it. For the first time, she fears that the justice system is unfair and will only let her down. She opens the door to the cell and steps inside. She knows she is going against regulation standing alone in a holding cell with a suspect and no backup, but she cannot bring herself to care. She takes in a deep breath, the file resting under her arm feeling like it is made of lead and pulling her down in the storm, drowning her slowly.

"Techs just finished with your computer." He just stares at her, lets the words sink in. "They found a document which was deleted; looks like a story concept."

"A story concept?"

"For the perfect murder… the scene so outlandish and strange, the killer gets away with it because he hides in plain sight."

"Beckett…" He begins, but she grabs the file and holds it out to him. He closes his mouth and reaches for the file. "What's this?"

"Emails. Emails that were deleted and apparently sent between you and Tessa." His eyes leave her face and fall on the file in front of him. He sets it open on his lap and begins to read – one after the other – the tension in his shoulders getting more and more pronounced with each passing moment, every ghostly word that passes before his eyes.

"I didn't…" He licks his lips and swallows past the emotion in his voice, "I didn't send these. I've never…"

"Castle, I need you to think. I need you to remember if you have seen anyone strange hanging around your building lately."

"No…" He says as he shakes his head halfheartedly.

"Did you leave your computer anywhere? Your phone? Somewhere someone could easily get to your email account information to be able to hack into it?"

"No…no I only use my laptop at ho..." His eyes flick almost imperceptibly toward the camera in the corner of the room, the knowledge that people can see them, likely even hear them, right now. If he says he only uses his computer at home he would be lying. He has brought his computer to her apartment before. She has woken up in the middle of the night to find him typing furiously in her living room in just his boxers, so engrossed in the writing he does not even realize what time it is or that she is there until she wraps her arms around his neck from behind him, lays a soft kiss to his temple. She closes her eyes and breathes, bidding the image to subside.

She opens her eyes and focuses on the present; on the fact the man she loves is a murder suspect.

"Beckett, I never wrote that story. I never wrote these emails, they're fake….I have never met her. I wasn't sleeping with her." She can see the fear begin to invade his eyes as he sits with the file in his lap, his face turned toward her with pleading in his voice. She has never seen that look on his face, the complete terror overtaking all the more logical areas of his brain and his reasoning until all that is left is the undeniable truth – something does not add up. She fights the urge to kneel in front of him and place her hands on either side of his face – to look right into his eyes and assure him that she is there, that she believes in him.

"Castle…there has to be an explanation for this – for all of it. The video footage, the bag in your apartment, the cashier's check, the document, the emails…everything."

"There is…" She looks at him with her eyes narrowed at the surety in his voice. "I'm being framed."

"By whom?"

"I don't know! But it's the only thing that makes sense." The overnight guard clears his throat behind her and she turns toward the open door of the cell. The large frame of the guard looms in the space and she knows that is her signal – time is up. She looks back to Castle and he hands her the file carefully looking anywhere but her eyes. She grabs the file and backs away to keep herself from reaching for him, from gathering him in her arms and kissing his forehead while murmuring her assurances that it will be ok, that she loves him. She catches the words before they can tumble from her lips. Not here, not now. She cannot tell him in a haze of desperation and fear. And that is what it would feel like, looking back on this moment, if she allowed her fears and doubts to get the best of her…it would only be out of the desperate need for him to know before something happened to him, because she would not get another chance to speak the words out loud and have him hear them. She cannot accept that she will not be able to save him. There will be a time and place – the perfect time and place and she will tell him – just not tonight.

She backs out of the cell, cannot bring herself to turn away from him even though he is not looking at her. He has resumed his prior position on the bench: arms on his knees, head bowed low. The guard shuts the door once she is clear and the harsh sound jars her fragile resolve and she can feel the pin pricks of tears at the backs of her eyes. She swallows past the emotion, knows she cannot cry.

Instead she strides quickly toward the elevator pulling her phone from her pocket as she walks.

X

"I was just leaving the morgue when I got your text. And can I just say…" Lanie Parish walks through the door to Kate's apartment with a brown bag under her arm filled with what Kate can only guess are the "supplies" for the night: wine and ice cream. "Beckett, what the hell? Are you ok?"

Her friend pulls her into an embrace. Kate knows she looks like a mess, the moment she got home less than 30 minutes ago the flood gates opened and she collapsed on the floor in a fit of sobs, her back pressed heavily against the front door. She watches as Lanie pulls away from her and moves to open the fridge and freezer, putting away first the wine then the ice cream, and then turn back towards her. Kate walks from Lanie toward her couch but instead of sitting on it she falls to the floor and turns so her right side is against the soft fabric.

"When I was kid and I was upset or didn't feel well I always ended up curling up on the floor. Drove my dad crazy. My mom said she did the same thing…something about the hardness of the surface but also the coolness of it would calm her nerves."

"Kate…" Lanie's voice is soft as she sits in front of her friend on the rug.

"We've been dating, Lanie."

"What?"

"Castle and me…we're together." Lanie's eyes widen slightly as she takes in Kate's face and posture, the crumpled up tissue held like a vice in her hand. "You really had no idea?"

"I had some suspicions but…I guess now I know they were right." Lanie smiles and a fresh batch of tears slide silently down Kate's cheeks. "Sweetie…I know that this looks bad, but…"

Lanie's assurances are cut short when Kate reaches toward the file that sits on the coffee table in front of her and hands it to Lanie. The woman's eyes are full of questions as she takes the file and opens it, begins to read.

"They started up about eight weeks ago, according to those emails. He met her after one of his…book signings and he asked her out for coffee and that was…that was just a couple weeks after we started seeing each other."

"Oh, sweetie."

"He told her that he needed to keep it a secret because he was with someone else…and then when he tried to break it off about a week ago she threatened to go and tell his girlfriend. He offered to come over to her apartment to talk things through and that was the night of the murder."

"He had motive." Kate's shaky intake of breath prompts Lanie to continue, "What did Castle say when you talked to him?"

"He said that the emails were faked. He said he never wrote that story and that he was being framed. You should have seen him, Lanie, he looked like a little boy he was so scared." Kate breathes deeply, forcing herself past the tears falling and the emotion beginning to choke her. "I know him, Lanie. He is an immature, egotistical…self-centered jackass sometimes, but he's not this." Lanie's eyes fall from Kate's face, and Kate can see her contemplating her next words, how to say them and not risk a verbal lashing. Lanie's eyes meet Kate's and she says the words that have been haunting Kate all night:

"Are you sure?" It only takes a moment for Kate's sure voice to ring in the silence of her apartment:

"Yes."

"Kate."

"Lanie, I'm sure. He did not kill Tessa and he wasn't having an affair with her."

"Sweetie, it was less than a year ago you were standing in my morgue commiserating over the fact that Castle had shown up at a crime scene with a flight attendant and then kept repeatedly leaving in the middle of the case to see said flight attendant." Lanie's voice is soft, contemplating.

"I know, Lanie, but this is different. We weren't together then."

"And being in a relationship with you changes things?"

"He's not a killer…he's not a cheater."

"OK, tell me this – how many people know about the two of you?"

"What?"

"How many people know that you and Castle are together?"

"Aside from you…Martha has known all along apparently, Castle told Alexis just before they moved her into her dorm at Columbia and Ryan and Espo…though I'm not completely sure how long they've known."

"So the whole thing about having to keep things quiet because he was seeing someone…? If this was some random person setting him up, how would they know he's in a relationship?"

"I don't know…" Kate admits, her shoulders slumping and her body caving further into the front of the couch. "Maybe whoever it is has been spying on him, watching him…"

"Kate, you know we all love Castle. And I don't think he's a killer and I really do not want to think that he could ever hurt you – I've seen the way he looks at you - but…"

"But these are questions that I have to be able to answer with evidence…evidence I don't have! Evidence that doesn't exist!"

"The DA won't listen to a story…especially one that doesn't have any physical evidence to back it up."

"Well the story that's there doesn't make any sense…nothing about this makes sense."


	4. Saturday Morning

_Hello wonderful, wonderful readers...to any and all who are still reading "Before I Sleep" I swear I am still writing it! I got stuck on the next chapter and it is driving me insane then I got sidetracked with Grad School applications..._

_in the meantime - I was able to finish a couple little one-shots...so hope you all enjoy._

_**Disclaimer: yeah we all know they are not mine...**  
_

* * *

I got no reason to get out of bed – cause I, I got no better place to be than right here

Saying goodnight in the morning, stealing a kiss without warning

Doing whatever we're wanting to, baby

Making this minute a moment, falling in love on a Saturday morning

A Saturday morning with you, oh with you

"Saturday Morning" by Hoku

~~XX~~XX~~XX~~

The waning sunlight plays off the windows of the apartment buildings surrounding Kate's position where she stands on the corner. Her breathing hitches just slightly in her chest – she begins to feel the pin pricks of pressure, the fist just beginning to grip into her gut, her lungs sputtering to take in oxygen - and she closes her eyes; focuses on her breathing. Keeps telling herself the glint is just the sun – not rifle scopes- just the sun. She is safe. She left the reminder on Bracken's left check that gives her a heady sense of satisfaction every time his face comes onto a television screen and she is safe.

She takes a deep breath in and out and opens her eyes, narrowing her field of vision to the sidewalk in front of her. She catches a glimpse of them as they crowd into the black town car – hints of twin ginger heads as they disappear and her phone vibrates in her hand.

_Coast is clear_

Three simple words and her heart begins to beat faster, her pulse thrumming in her throat as she begins to move fluidly to the front door of his building. One month, he said. Alexis and Martha are heading to Europe for a month to celebrate Alexis' graduation and that leaves a month of no sleuthing around – one month where he does not have to sneak into her bed at night and back out before the sun rises or vice versa. One month of just them – together. And she cannot help the giddy excitement that stirs in her heart, her stomach, taking over her senses; even if she does go back to work in two weeks which creates a whole new slew of problems she just does not want to consider right now.

She walks through the front door, his doorman smiling at her genuinely.

"Ah, Miss Beckett, it's so nice to see you again."

"You as well, Eduardo!" she responds with a smile that never seems to leave her face these days.

She pushes the UP button to call the elevator and watches as the numbers above the steel doors light up in descending order tracking the movement of the unit closer and closer to the ground floor. She thumbs the green icon on her phone and types in her lock code then composes a quick message back to him: _On my way up._ Her phone vibrates as the bell dings and the doors open. She moves forward slipping inside and relaxes against the back wall of the car then thumbs open the message: _Isn't that supposed to be MY line? ;) _ She rolls her eyes and locks her phone before slipping it back into her pocket.

She slips out when the doors open and sighs when she realizes the door into his loft is opened just slightly for her. She pushes the door open and crosses the threshold of his loft, kicking off her shoes as she closes the door and turning when she hears his footfalls on the wooden floors coming towards her. He skids into her, clumsily wrapping his arms around her waist as she turns and faces him.

"What are you doing, Castle?"

"I was trying to be stealthy and sneak up behind you…"

"A – I am a de-tec-tive," she punctuates each syllable with a sharp staccato tone and a sight nod of her head making him grin like a fool, "and B – you don't walk softly enough to be stealthy. I could hear you." She places both of her hands on either side of his face and pulls him closer to her allowing her lips to glance off his quickly – soft, teasing, a promise of all the things to come. She moves her hands from his face to rest on his broad chest for just a moment before she pushes him out of her personal space and pulls the strap of her leather overnight bag off her shoulder and shoves it into his arms.

"Are we being a bit presumptuous, Detective?" Castle counters with a cock of his eyebrow eliciting that closed mouthed grin with her eyes just slightly narrowed from her that always makes his head spin.

"Don't know, Castle, you could always see what's IN the bag before making that assumption…" she says as she crosses her arms lightly over her chest, her face curiously neutral. He hates her poker face, and he loves it…he kind of wants to kiss it off her right now – shove her back up against that door and kiss her until he leaves her gasping for air…

"Castle?" her voice wrestles him back to the moment and he meets her eyes, her grin widening to encompass her entire face – eyes bright, teeth white, eyebrows just barely raised. He clears his throat in an attempt to be nonchalant and reaches to open the bag. Before he gets the zipper halfway undone she steps into him and grabs the bag from him…

"Hey…wait…what are you doing?" He fumbles as she slings the bag back over her shoulder and strides purposefully towards his bedroom.

"Why don't you come find out?" she calls back to him as she disappears behind the door. He sucks in a shaky breath and follows.

~~XX~~XX~~XX~~

She swears she stumbled over to the windows and closed those damn curtains at some point last night. She swears it. Still here she lies in the cocoon of his Egyptian cotton sheets, feeling like she is luxuriating in heaven except for the ray of sunlight that is relentlessly bearing down on her face. She can see the rays of light even through her eyelids it is that bright. She sighs heavily and reaches a hand over to lay it on the other side of the bed finding it cool to the touch. Not cold, but cooler than it should be. She cracks open an eye and takes in the red glare of the numbers of the alarm clock – 8:45 – ugh. On a Saturday, while she is on leave, NOT cool.

She turns her head to the empty space beside her and takes in another deep breath. She closes her eyes once again allowing her body to stretch, groaning in the process as sleep melts from her muscles. She hears the exhalation of breath and her eyes slide open landing on his form silhouetted in sunlight next to the bed. And she is not going to lie – it takes her breath away. Just the sight of him standing there, that light smile on his face, his eyes bright blue in the morning haze, clad only in those silk boxers she likes so much, and carrying two ceramic cups that smell deliciously sinful even from here – she cannot help but feel overcome. She smiles sleepily at him and his face breaks open - love spilling from every surface so that she wonders how in the world she fought it, fought him, for as long as she did.

"Morning." She says, her voice lazy and soft, still laden with sleep.

"Morning." He responds, setting the mugs of coffee on his nightstand and leaning into the center of the bed to press his lips to hers. The kiss is soft and quick, closed mouth and feather light but still sets a slow burn alight in her veins. She sighs as his lips leave hers and finds her body effortlessly canting towards him as he places another kiss to her temple.

He reaches toward the cups on the nightstand and hands one to her. She shifts on the bed so that her back is resting against the headboard and allows the sheet to pool in her lap as she takes hold of the cup. She grins as she raises the cup to her lips and takes a sip knowing full well that he is staring at her chest.

"Nothing you haven't seen before, Castle."

"Just appreciating the view, Beckett…" Kate raises an eyebrow at him and places her coffee on the nightstand next to her then turns, her eyes meeting his.

" Want to appreciate a little more thoroughly?"

"Thoroughly?"

"Up close?" Her body shifts of its own accord as he sinks onto the mattress next to her – his body sliding easily toward her. It's amazing how incredibly spry he is, how playful he can be.

"What are you grinning at?"

"You…how quickly you move when there's sex involved."

"Only sex with you….and I think you just called me old and slow…"

"Never…old man…" She teases. In a swift movement he settles himself between her legs, her knees framing his hips with his forearms on either side of her face. His face is mere millimeters from hers as he slowly paints her face with light kisses. His lips brushing over her eyelids, her cheeks, her temples, the corner of her mouth finally resting at the soft spot just under her earlobe. He runs his tongue over the jut of her jaw and continues his trek downward leaving a wet trail from her ear to her collarbone.

"You were saying?" His voice vibrates against her skin.

"Hm?" She opens her eyes and is met with his starling blue gaze fixed on her. She holds in the gasp that wants to erupt from her chest and places a hand on his chest – felling the hypnotic rhythm of his breathing, his heartbeat, against the soft skin of her palm. He raises his eyebrows at her and she bits her bottom lip as she narrows her eyes at him. "Shut up."

She wraps her arms around his neck and pulls him into her letting their lips meet and all other thoughts but him and her and this moment fade away.


	5. Inevitable

_Here's hoping you all had a wonderful Christmas (or whatever holiday you may celebrate) and a very happy New Year..._

* * *

I want to break every clock, the hands of time could never move again

We could stay in this moment, for the rest of our lives

I want to be your last first kiss

"Inevitable" by Anberlin

~~X~~

Somehow the small twinkling lights seem to shine brighter with each passing minute. Kate sighs and wraps her arms tighter around her stomach letting the too long arms of his sweatshirt engulf her hands – protecting them against the slight chill that settled into the room around her over the past three hours since he left. As much as she loves hardwood floors, sometimes they are just not practical – like in the dead of winter in New York City. The unyielding surface holds no heat and remains cool to the touch most of the time making them almost unbearable to walk on. She remains sitting on the large leather sofa in his living room, her bare feet tucked under her, body curving in on itself with her back almost turned to the door. It gives her a perfect view of the tree.

Part of her wishes he had taken it down right after Christmas, just gotten it over with. The presents were opened, stockings emptied, dinner eaten and life was back to normal…well mostly normal…but still the tree stood sentinel over the past eight evenings spent at the loft. The other decorations had been mostly removed – the wreaths from the windows, the train set, the lights strung along the banister of the stairs leaving only a smattering of winter (as opposed to Christmas) themed decoration. Yet, the tree withstood it all. Part of her wondered if he was doing it on purpose, but Martha had confirmed that they normally did not take the tree down until after January 1st.

So she sits staring down the enormous Fir in the silence of the loft thinking she can turn on the television in the study, sit and watch the festivities from Times Square. But something keeps her rooted to the spot, barely blinking as the twinkling lights cast out the darkness around her. The click of the key in the lock and the tumblers turning barely register to her ears. The snick of the door opening then closing reverberates in the stillness.

"Kate, you're excellent at your job…but I don't think you're going to beat the tree in a staring contest." Castle's voice is light and lilting as it echoes off the floors and walls. Kate turns toward him, tendrils of her golden brown hair falling from the messy bun sitting at the nape of her neck.

"What are you doing home? It's only eleven-thirty."

"Party was boring." He states simply as he walks further into the room, toeing off his shoes.

"Uh huh…" She sighs with narrowed eyes taking in his form in the tuxedo he rented for the evening. She reminds herself to breathe; to stop taking in the way the dark fabric clings perfectly to every inch of his frame – muscular in all the right places and soft in others. He shrugs off his wool coat and scarf and places them on the back of the dining room chair to his left.

"What, it was…" Castle shrugs his shoulders and moves to stand by the couch.

"Is that what you told Paula and Gina when you left?"

"Yes…yes it is…"

"Suuuuuuuure."

"Well I couldn't very well tell them I couldn't bear to ring in 2013 without my girlfriend there to kiss at midnight…so…"

"So, what? You told them you were going to the bathroom and just slipped out?"

"Um…not exactly…" He shoves his hands in the pockets of his pants and rocks back slightly his heels as he purses his lips together.

"Oh no…NO…"

"What?"

"Don't tell me you just left and didn't even tell anyone?"

"Maybe just a little bit."

"A little bit?"

"I told the doorman goodnight as I was leaving…"

"So does not count."

"Yeah it does. I told someone goodnight which indicates I was leaving for the evening…"

"Yes but you didn't tell the RIGHT someone that you were leaving…"

"The RIGHT someone?"

"YES! Such as the twin harpies you like to call your publisher and agent."

"Oooooohhhh harpies, huh? Some strong words, there Kate."

"Shut up." Castle laughs as he moves forward finally closing the gap between where he stands and her on the couch, that joy-filled sound that makes the corners of his eyes crinkle and his lips raise just enough to show a peek of his bright white perfect smile. She cannot help but smile back. Kate shifts to her left leaving just enough space for him to drop onto the sofa next to her and she falls easily into his side, his left arm snaking its way around her shoulders. She sighs as her head connects with his broad shoulder and she allows her eyes to close as she breathes in the scent of him – musk mixed with sandalwood and a hint of the champagne he must have had before he slipped out of the party. "I'm sorry."

"About what?"

"You having to leave the party..."

"Didn't _have_ to leave anything."

"You not being able to enjoy it…?"

"Was that a question?"

"Castle…" She huffs and punches his chest lightly.

"Kate." He says her name softly; a reverent prayer uttered into the darkness of the loft. She sighs and turns her head so that her nose is practically buried in his neck.

"I'm sorry we couldn't have a normal New Year's…" She says her voice just barely above a whisper. "I'm just…"

"I know you're not ready."

"Castle…" He feels her shift at his side, her weight moving so that she is leaning just enough away from him, propping her cheek on his shoulder, her eyes meeting his as he turns his head towards her. She pulls her knees up and lets her bare feet dig under his thighs warming the cool skin of her toes.

"Hm?"

"I'm just not ready to share you yet." His eyelids slip closed just a fraction as he regards her and she lifts her left hand toward him. Her fingers run gently through his hair and then still over his cheek. She waits, letting her hand rest firmly on his face – skin heating skin – as his eyes open and meet hers: sparkling blue to golden brown and she smiles. It is slight and barely lifts the corners of her lips but he notes it reaches all the way to her eyes making them sparkle and dance even in the darkness. He leans in and captures that smile with his own, softly letting his lips and then the weight of his tongue melding with hers communicate everything he wants to say.

They break apart when the need for air becomes too great. He leans away from her, his back making contact with the arm of the sofa behind him and drops a kiss to her temple, his lips lingering on the cool, soft skin.

"All I could think about was that it was getting closer and closer to midnight and I wouldn't get to kiss you. I wouldn't get to ring in the New Year with you."

"Aren't they going to be upset?"

"Who?" He asks feigning ignorance. She rolls her eyes at him.

"The Black Pawn higher-ups? Paula? Gina? Lord knows who else at that party you were supposed to schmooze and booze tonight?"

"Schmooze and booze, hm? That's a fun one."

"Thank you."

"Don't worry about it. I'll be fine. They'll just take it out on me later…if they even notice I'm gone." He wraps his arms tighter around her, his head falling on top of hers. A heavy weight that she relaxes into letting her eyes fall closed, reveling in the feeling of his weight next to her, around her, on top of her…a feeling she does not think she will or could ever tire of. She feels him moving next to her – just a slight movement – but does not care to open her eyes and find out what he is doing, completely content to lay here in the stillness and let time pass her – pass them – by. She hears a low clicking sound and cracks one eye open, sees him fiddling with his phone. She grins and closes her eye again.

"What are you doing, Castle?"

"Nothing." She can hear the smile in his voice. The barely contained excitement seeping into the words and enveloping her senses in a way that only his words and his voice can. That is when the soft guitar strains begin to envelop the silence around them. Kate feels Castle shift next to her, hears the clink of his phone as he places it on the coffee table. She opens her eyes when she feels his weight leave her completely and narrows her eyes as he straightens and stands, then turns and offers his hand to her.

"May I have this dance?" Instead of answering, Kate takes his outstretched hand and he pulls her up from her position on the couch letting her fall into his chest. He walks them backwards into the open area in front of the double doors into his bedroom all the while swaying to the music that is barely audible from the speakers on his phone. In her bare feet Kate barely reaches Castle's shoulders, he smiles and she rests her head over his heart, letting their joined hands rest on his chest, his other moving to encircle her waist.

They sway on the spot; barely moving as the song plays…memorizing every inch of the way they move together. She thought she knew every curve, every way his muscles could contract as he moved over her, under her, around her…but somehow this is new. The way his hand rests heavenly and warm on the small of her back heating her through the thick jersey of his sweatshirt; the way his heart beats under her ear keeping a steady rhythm with the music; the way his breath skirts over her chilled skin making the loose hair around her face flutter. Her heart flutters with it.

The song ends. Castle moves to pull away but Kate tightens her grip and keeps him pressed against her. Kate tilts her head up towards him rising up on her toes and their lips connect. He is so soft and warm, pliant against her and she looses herself in the feeling of his body in that tuxedo. Her hands move toward the lapels of his jacket pushing it off his shoulders and it falls to the floor. She moves to his bow tie as his hands wander into her hair loosening the tie and letting it cascade down her back in waves, his bow tie falling with it.

Kate's arms wrap around Castle's waist pulling his shirt tails lose from his pants and allows her fingertips to graze lightly over his skin reveling in the way it ripples under her touch. Her hands come back to rest in between them and Kate opens the button on his pants, then pulls the zipper down pushing the garment toward the floor with her fingertips as her arms fall to her sides. Castle's hands fall to Kate's waist then move lower to the hem of his sweatshirt.

"This is my favorite sweatshirt." He whispers in her ear.

"It's cozy…and it smells like you…" She breathes into the exposed skin at his neck.

"It looks good on you," His hands shift under the fabric to pull it up over her head, landing in a heap on the floor. "Then again…you look amazing in anything…or nothing." He adds as his hands fall to the white T-Shirt she had underneath the sweatshirt and adds it to the growing pile of clothing on the floor at their feet. Kate feels his hands coast slowly down her back, squeezing her ass then bending slightly as his hands land on her thighs. He grips her harder lifting her up and her legs instinctively wrap around his waist, her arms wrapping around his neck.

Castle deftly steps out of the heap of his pants and moves toward the door into his study then his bedroom beyond. They fall onto his bed in a tangle of limbs, finally removing the last vestiges of clothing from their warm, needy bodies. Kate gasps as Castle finally enters her, her head falling back onto the pillows as she breathes his name into the crackling air. His mouth finds her neck – biting, teasing, licking, soothing along the tendons he finds - as he thrusts into her.

Kate grins and arches into him, raises her head capturing his earlobe in her teeth then soothing it with a swipe of her tongue. "Castle…"

"Hm?" He gasps when Kate squeezes her legs together as she crosses her ankles behind his back.

"It's after midnight." Kate's head falls back on the pillow beneath her and catches Castle's eye, smiling at the impish grin that she finds plastered on his face.

"Happy New Year." They breathe simultaneously into the air between them as he lowers his lips to hers and no further words are needed.


	6. Vild

Kind of a post-ep for 5x04 "Murder, He Wrote"

* * *

Kärleken är vild, blodet rusar i mig så fort jag är nära dig  
Hör du hjärtat slår, hör du kärlekens röst som sjunger här i mitt bröst  
Kärleken är vild, jag har fattat de nu för mig finns bara du  
Jag är din men kärleken är vild

"Vild" by Timoteij

* * *

The moment the elevator doors snick closed in front of them, Richard Castle feels Kate Beckett's lip on his. Hot, smooth..insistent. That is the word for it. She is insistent. As her tongue slides along the seam of his lips and he opens for her he wonders if he should withhold sex more often…the feeling of her tongue meeting his – warm and wet – erases all thought from his mind as his skin tingles and the blood rushes from his head.

He can feel every inch of her body heating his though too many layers of clothes – lean, lithe and taut against him. He fists his hands into the loose strands of her hair, cupping the back of her skull with his right hand and his left moves down the length of her body mapping every curve. She gasps into his mouth when his lips leave hers and find her earlobe taking the soft cartilage between his teeth then soothing it with the slick of his tongue. He continues to move down, trailing his teeth then his tongue along the jut of her cheekbone, her jaw and down to her slender neck. He lets his tongue seek out and lave the dip in her collarbone as her head falls back. She sighs his name into the sparking air around them as her hands find their way into his hair, holding him where his mouth works against the soft skin of her neck.

He steps farther into her, their hips connecting as he moves her backwards until he feels the solid structure of the elevator wall halt their movements. Both of his hands drop to her waist, teasing the hem of her shirt up so he can place his hands on her skin – feel the warmth radiating off her body directly into him. The feeling of her leg coming to rest behind his thigh breaks the contact of his lips on her skin and he raises his head. When his eyes take in her face he sees her lips are parted as she takes in shallow, halting breaths; her cheeks are flushed punk and her eyes are dark with desire – nearly black pools of want and lust peering back at him. She ghosts her hands slowly down his chest making his eyes flutter with the barely there contact and come to rest on his hips, pulling him hard against her.

The air gasps from his lungs at the friction created by the hardness of his growing erection meeting not only the fabric of his own jeans but hers as well. Her head thuds against the wall as her hands roam up his back. He captures her mouth again with a hand behind her skull pulls her roughly into him.

From the moment he shoved her body up against his front door in June and covered it with his own, he knew it would be like this – tender, loving even playful most of the time…but also hot and rough as he took her up against doors, walls, countertops really anything they could reach because it just took too damn long to make it to a bed; the need to feel her under him, above him, around him as she broke apart by his touch to much to possibly deny.

The ding of the elevator finally reaching her floor resounds in the small space. Castle groans as Kate moves to push his body from hers, her leg leaving its position on his thigh as she breathes out a laugh – never taking her lips from his. Castle wraps his arms tightly around her waist, the strain between his legs becoming too much and he wonders how smart it would be to push her up against the first wall he sees and just take her right there in the hallway. Something in his kiss, his touch, must give him away because she hums slightly as she breaks their kiss just enough to whisper "No way, stud. Inside."

He laughs and claims her lips again as the doors of the elevator open and she walks backward down the hallway, dragging him with her towards the front door of her apartment.

He feels her hand reach between them, glancing off his abdomen. She smiles into his kiss at the feeling of the muscles rippling unbidden under her touch, making him groan hotly into her mouth. She pulls her keys from her pocket and Castle reaches to grab them from her. When they come to her door he pushes her back against it, breaking the seal of their lips slightly. Her right hand moves into his hair while her left slides down his body to grip his ass as her mouth moves to trail kisses along the strong line of his jaw smattered with light stubble – the coarse hair tickling her lips as she runs down along the thick line of his neck.

He fumbles the keys in his hand trying and failing to get the right key in the hole – his mind occupied with the feeling of her hands working in tandem on his skull and his backside as her tongue runs along the jut of his Adam's apple. He finally drops the keys, sighing "Oh, fuck it" as he grabs her head with both hands – one on either side of her face – and claims her mouth harshly with his own. He barely hears her gasp "Yes, please" into the cave of his mouth before their tongues meet. He feels the strength of her hands on his hips pulling him closer into her body as their breath comes out in gasps in the minimal space now separating their bodies. He slips his thigh between her legs and smiles at the groan it elicits from her. His breath escapes his lungs when he feels the heat of her arousal radiating from between her legs seeping into the skin of his thigh through thick denim.

His hands move to grab the backs of her thighs as he bends to lift her further up the wall so she can wrap her legs around his waist, when the sound of a throat clearing makes him startle. He feels Kate's body stiffen against him. Their lips pop as they separate and he turns to his right to see the smiling face and raised eyebrows of Lanie Parish peering back at him.

"Hey guys."

"Lanie…" Kate chokes out. Her voice is low, coated with lust and heat making Castle's blood sing again with desire. Kate swallows and clears her own throat, "What are you doing here?"

"You invited me." She continues when she sees Kate's questioning expression, "Dinner and drinks after your weekend away with your…boyfriend." She draws out each syllable of the final word as she shifts her gaze from Kate to land fully on Castle.

He snaps his gaze back to Kate just in time to see her quickly lick her lips as her hands move slowly from their places at his ass and his hair and slip from his body. He breathes in deeply, trying to stamp down the rampant arousal still coursing through his blood, removes his thigh from between her legs and attempts to straighten his stance.

Kate clears her throat again softly and he can feel Lanie's eyes on him as he straightens his coat and takes a step back from where Kate stands still leaning against her front door. She runs a hand surreptitiously through her hair and swallows hard.

"Well, um…thanks for the vacation Castle. I…"

"It was my pleasure. I'll…talk to you later." Castle finishes for her, fighting every impulse in his body that is screaming out to just fall back into the gravity of her body.

"Goodnight."

"Until tomorrow, Detective." He turns and walks carefully down the hallway still feeling the strain of his jeans over his groin. He makes it to the end of the hallway and pushes the elevator down button then steps into the car when it arrives keeping his back toward the women he left behind. The last thing he hears before the doors close is the teasing voice of Lanie Parish:

"Have a good night, Castle!"

He closes his eyes and lets his head fall against the wall, growling to himself as the weekend comes back to him. Yeah, he is never not having sex with her ever again.

(She calls him at two in the morning and he rushes to her apartment.)

* * *

Love is wild, my blood is rushing whenever you're near  
If you hear my heart beat, then you hear the voice of love singing in my chest  
Love is wild, I finally get it you're the one for me  
I am yours but love is wild

* * *

this pretty much happened because I read an interview with Tamala Jones somewhere where she said that Lanie knew about Castle/Beckett before the conversation in "Probable Cause" :)

Reviewing is caring! (I know it doesn't rhyme but work with me)


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